


fragile and true

by mother_hearted



Series: you count up all my scars (crumble them into stars) [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: Claude knows when he looks perfect.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: you count up all my scars (crumble them into stars) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692022
Comments: 5
Kudos: 118





	fragile and true

Claude knows when he looks perfect. Every curl of his hair carefully styled. Lines of his clothes clean and crisp. Colors popping tastefully from chosen accessories. Boots with a bit of heel. He was not gifted with height but presence makes up for it. The sheer force he generates not in muscle but his personality. He's trained his mind since he was young. Weaponized the appearance other children spit and sneered at. When Claude steps into his office he's perfect. When Claude steps into the roundtable meeting he is perfect. Not even one single eye lash out of place.

Before the debates hit their rockiest points he's exhausted.

Stifled in finery. Suffocated by his cravat. Tension lining his temples as he listens to a house representative, tucking the information away while reminding himself what words to avoid, how he can and can't afford to act. Tucking tiredness back with quick wit and golden words, maintaining the illusion he's not forced to work harder than everyone else, keeping the curtain held up tight over his efforts.

They don't deserve to know. Much as he can't afford to share this weakness.

He's not truly free until he's home, no, in his bath, no, his bedroom.

Hair free and relaxed. Soap scrubbing off sweat along with his tightly laced mask. His robe is free and flowing and even tied, slides off a shoulder all too easily. After a warm soak the air feels practically frigid, has him quickly footing it to bed with books cradled in his arms. Tucks himself under their comforter and lets his tired back rest into the mattress.

He's halfway through his second book when Dimitri comes in, looking too clean after a field trip with his students.

Came back early, actually. Took his bath and went to write his next round of letters in the library. Wasn't sure when Claude would be back.

"You're here now," Claude preens, expectant when he sits up. Batting his lashes because there's been no opportunities for any fun at all today.

Dimitri smiles before leaning down, eagerly giving Claude the kiss he expects. Mmm. One more. Another. He keeps asking, grinning when Dimitri finally huffs and let him dress down, get into bed and spare his back, you minx.

When Dimitri joins him proper, curling close and nuzzling his ear, he makes a pleased noise.

"Oh, that's lovely. You used the new oils in the bath."

"They're a good blend. We'll use them together next soak."

Dimitri hums. Pleased. Kissing under his ear, making Claude feel liquid where his muscles are suppose to be. Mindful of the book still in his lap, Dimitri lines up against his side.

"Mm, Claude... You're perfect."

There's no denying the fragile feeling those words pull from him. He feels all too close to a cracked vase begging for a water pitcher to be pointed elsewhere. He knows he's a sight. There are things people want from him. His confidence is not false.

But, perfect?

Claude can't help the glance down at himself. How slovenly he looks. Has to rally before it's too late, turning his head to peck at Dimitri's nose.

"Aren't you the lucky one?"

Dimitri's smile is indulgently fond, seeing through him, and Claude stamps down the tremor of fear in his chest. Running away to a safe place is meaningless, when he would just end up back in Dimitri's arms.

"I am."

"Me too," Claude says more weakly than he likes. Grateful to be known well enough Dimitri doesn't prolong the conversation. Lets Claude go back to his book to steady himself. Give him a chance to speak about his day without his vulnerability lazing in bed with them.

Perfect.

Dimitri really is.

**Author's Note:**

> just a little ficlet after thinking about claude being claude.
> 
> i'm diarthrosis on twitter if u wanna dm me and chat about the husbands o/


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